Perfect Day
by Gryvon
Summary: Doumeki/Watanuki. It had been a perfect day.


The sun was warm on his face, fitting for such a beautiful summer's day. He heard the breeze as it ruffled through the trees surrounding him, then felt it as it playfully dove through the grass around him. He knew without looking that the sky was clear, only a few puffy white clouds idly dotting the sky. 

Footsteps crunched through the grass. "Yo."

It _had_ been perfect.

Watanuki kept his eyes closed, ignoring Doumeki while he tried to hold onto the blissful peace of the afternoon.

"Did you make sushi like I asked?"

A vein started twitching in Watanuki's forehead. He took a long, deep breath and forced himself to stay calm, letting the air hiss out through his teeth like the retort that threatened to break from his lips. Raising one thin arm barely off the grass, he pointed to his left, where he'd last left the picnic basket.

The grass rustled as he heard Doumeki sit, followed by the sounds of the picnic basket being opened and rifled through.

"Himawari sends her regrets."

One eye popped open to glare at Doumeki. Watanuki had a feeling his good mood was about to disappear.

"What?" The word came out as a lazy snarl, caught halfway between his previous calm and rising anger.

"She said she had some errands that came up. She won't be joining us."

Watanuki closed his eyes and groaned. He should have known that perfect weather like this meant that something else in his life _had_ to go wrong. As Yuuko would say, it was hitsuzen.

"Yuuko?"

He had almost managed to forget Doumeki was here, until his perpetual annoyance spoke.

"Hangover."

He wasn't sure which would have been better, having to deal with Yuuko and her constant demands or being left alone with Doumeki. At least Doumeki was quiet, for the most part.

"Are you going to lie there forever?"

Apparently, he'd given Doumeki too much credit. He glared at Doumeki with one eye and considered making a rude gesture. "I'm enjoying the peacefulness of what had been a perfect day, before you showed up."

"I don't see what's so peaceful about just sitting around."

"Maybe if you shut up, you'd understand," Watanuki growled, closing his eyes and mouth as a definite signal that he was done discussing it.

He would have thought that, out of anyone, Doumeki would have understood what was so nice about just sitting quietly and relaxing, considering all the meditation and stuff that priests in training were supposed to go through.

The silence around Watanuki made his brain wander, and he found himself considering Doumeki from a different light. Maybe his parents, or whoever it was that was training him, didn't go for all that old nonsense so maybe they weren't making Doumeki meditate and learn the old prayers and all that. Or, maybe they were and Doumeki was just tired of having to be quiet during his studies, so he didn't see the point of a person actively seeking quiet when they didn't have to. But that didn't explain Doumeki's fairly silent nature, but there were a number of reasons that could be attributed to the lack of talkativeness on Doumeki's part...

...and Watanuki really had no idea why he even _cared_, let alone why he was bothering to think about it when all he wanted was to be left alone to enjoy the nice, _quiet_ afternoon, until...

Something light and feathery touched his nose, and he froze, fighting the urge to sneeze. Slowly, Watanuki opened both eyes to stare cross-eyed at the splotch of blue fluttering in his field of vision.

"There's a butterfly on your nose."

Powdery wings brushed his cheeks, halting the hasty reply he'd been about to spit out. I can see that, he wanted to shout, but shouting would scare off the creature.

Closing his eyes, he relaxed back into the grass and let the butterfly soak up the sun with him.

"Aren't you going to do anything about that?"

He ignored Doumeki, forgetting that the other boy was even there as he concentrated on the light brush of the butterfly's wing against his cheeks and the soft tickle of its tiny legs on his nose.

Suddenly the butterfly was gone from his nose, replaced by a soft, yet slightly wet pressure against his lips. For a second he thought the butterfly had merely relocated but the pressure was too firm to be a butterfly, too heavy for the tiny creature.

Opening his eyes, half of a black-haired head filled his vision, too close for the features to be anything but blurry, even with his glasses on.

Doumeki sat back, matching Watanuki stare for stare, but Doumeki's face was as calm and expressionless as a puddle while Watanuki could only guess at the myriad emotions playing out across his face - shock and surprise, mixed with confusion and a hint of uncertainly.

For once in the long years he's known Doumeki, Watanuki didn't know how to respond. He should be angry, outraged, but no heated words leapt off his lips like they usually did when Doumeki said or did something to annoy him.

He wasn't even sure he _was_ annoyed, which in itself was annoying, and now he wasn't even making sense. None of this made any sense.

"What was that for?" His voice came out low and even when he should be shouting or screaming, possibly even flailing his arms.

Doumeki shrugged and moved back to the picnic basket without saying a word. Two plates were set out, heaped with food. Doumeki had unpacked the basket while Watanuki had been lying around.

Watanuki glared, glad that his body hadn't completely rebelled against normal reactions. Standing slowly, he crossed over to the blanket that had been spread across the ground and sat on the opposite side from Doumeki, the basket firmly set between them. Doumeki ignored him and popped bits of sushi into his mouth with his fingers.

Reluctantly, Watanuki picked at the food Doumeki had set out for him. Doumeki had been smart enough not to put any of the shrimp pieces on Watanuki's pieces. Watanuki watched Doumeki pop one of the disgusting pieces into his mouth and Watanuki reminded himself firmly that he'd made those for Himawari, not because Doumeki had asked or because he knew they were one of Doumeki's favorites.

That would have been stupid. He didn't even _like_ Doumeki.

His thoughts circled back to the kiss that he refused to acknowledge had even happened. It was a good kiss, his traitorous mind thought. He bit roughly into a tuna roll, since he wasn't about to get near enough to Doumeki to bite _him_.

So much for a perfect day.


End file.
